


peter whiny and goob

by reyloanon



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Blood Play, Choking, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hair Pulling, I made this for my friend to make her happy, chest hair pulling, if you don't like it just know it wasn't made for you, it's what she wanted, sex and sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27882310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyloanon/pseuds/reyloanon
Summary: Peter Quint robs a bank and steals the car of Gab. Little did he know, he stole the wrong car.
Relationships: Peter Quint/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	peter whiny and goob

She was stopped at a red light, tapping her fingers gently on her steering wheel to the tune of Stockholm Syndrome by One Direction. She didn’t want anything more than to get home after a long day of working at the Cracker Barrel. Maybe it’s because she’s so tired or because she’s so focused on waiting for the light to change from red to green, but somehow, she doesn’t notice the ringing of an alarm happening in the building directly to her left. Nor does she notice the man running out of the building frantically, bags in his arms as loose cash falls out, before he hones in on her car and runs up to her window, holding a gun to the window before saying firmly in what she feels must be a fake Scottish accent, “I’m taking this car.”

“The hell you are!!” She screams. She paid good money for this car. There’s no way she’s giving it up to a man faking a Scottish accent and robbing a bank. But then he’s yanking the car door open and pushing her over the center console and into the passenger’s seat. And then he’s shifting her car into drive as he slams the door shut behind him and shoves the bags full of cash in her back seat. She has no choice but to start punching him in the arm as he drives through the red light she’s been waiting for and nearly gets their car into a crash. “You fucking idiot!! You’re stealing my car and you don’t even know how to drive!”

“Fuck off!” He shoves her into the passenger side door and she hits her head against the window. “You wouldn’t have had to worry about that if you’d just gotten outta the car like I’d asked.”

“I wasn’t about to let you steal my fucking car, you jackass.” She shoves him a few more times, now angry about her head. “And you fucking hurt my head!”

He turns toward her, a rage in his eyes that scares her a bit. It makes me silent for a moment, but she quickly recovers. “Why do you even still have that horrible Scottish accent, anyway?”

He looks a bit stunned. And then he turns back toward where he’s speeding between cars. “I’m Scottish, you wanker.”

He seems almost hurt. But Gab just starts laughing loudly. “That’s REAL? That’s the worst accent I’ve ever heard!” She clutches her stomach, laughing loudly despite the anger brewing in this odd man.

“I’ll fucking tie you up and put you in the trunk if you don’t fucking shut up, bitch.” He grits out, hands tightening their grip on the wheel. Gab is left with no choice but to slap him across the face.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that.” She says, stern. She gets her finger in his face. “You’re a stinky dirty puss of a man, and I won’t hesitate to tear your tongue out if you say something like that to me again. You got into the wrong fucking car, you worthless, pathetic excuse of a man.” He grumbles, rubbing at his cheek where she slapped him. “Now where the fuck are you taking me, dumbass?”

“That’s not for you to know, ya fuckin’ cunt.” She slaps him again and he yelps. “Ouch! Stop fucking slapping me!”

“Don’t be fucking rude!!” She punches him in the arm again, and he shoves her back.

“You’re the one calling me stupid all the time.” He shouts back, eyes flashing in anger.

“Because you’re a dirty stinky man! I get to call you that because you don’t wipe your ass!!”

He looks shocked and confused. “What the hell?? What do you mean? Of course I wipe my ass.”   
  


“I’ll believe it when I see it.” She grumbles back, crossing her arms over her chest and staring out the window. They’ve made it out of the city now. Not that the city was that big to begin with. But they’re already gone and the stupid police didn’t even find them and save her car. So now she’s stuck with a stupid bank robber with a fake Scottish accent that is apparently not fake.

“Doll, if you wanted me naked, all you had to do was ask.” Her head whips back toward him quickly, seeing the smirk happily resting on his face.

She sputters slightly. “I bet you look horrible! I bet you have three nipples and no belly button!”

He laughs loudly. She’s flustered that he’s laughing. That he’s not retaliating back. And then she looks back out the window and it’s then that she notices her cheeks are tinged pink. She covers them with her hands, upset that the idea of a stinky dirty ugly man naked made her flustered.

They’re silent for several minutes. Until the man extends his hand toward her, eyes not leaving the road. “Peter Quint.” She looks at his extended hand and huffs, scowling at him.

“I’m not touching your hand.” He turns back to the window. “And I think I’ll call you Whiny Stink.”

He scoffs, bringing his hand back to the steering wheel. “So what should I call you then? Dirty ass bitch?”

She turns back to him, hitting him again as he laughs. “You are the dirty stinky man. I am a woman and clean and wash my ass.” She scoffs. “You’re the stinky one who stole my car and is from Scotland with a Scottish accent so bad I could fake a better one.”

“The hell you could.” He grunts. “You’ve only got that stupid American hick accent.”

“I’ll show you what a hick is, bitch.” She launches her upper body across the console to grab at him and push him against the window.

“Ouch!” What commences is a battle of smacks and pushes as the car swerves from side to side on the road as Peter’s grip on the wheel falters with each shove. The battle concludes when Peter grips Gab close to his body with her arms across her chest, stuck beneath his bicep.

“Let me go, you pathetic dirty boy man! Unhand me!” She wiggles around in his arms, trying to get free.

“Stop moving! We’re almost there!” He yells, squeezing his arm tighter into her so she’s stuck and can barely squirm.

“Almost where, dumbass!?” She yells, doing her best to escape. She ignores how nice it feels that she’s so strong.

“An inn, now shut up, you annoying loud mouth!” He shouts, yanking her toward him so she gets pulled nearly over the console. “Now be quiet until we get there!” And then he brings a hand up to cover her mouth so she can’t say anything.

With no other options, Gab bites his hand. She doesn’t like the taste. It’s dirty and sweaty like this stupid, dumb man. He yelps, quickly bringing his hand toward his body and shoving her away. He glares at her. The rage in his eyes scares her a little bit. He yells, shoving his finger in her face. “Then fucking sit in the chair and be quiet!” So, she bites it. He punches her in her tit and she yelps, hands going up to grasp the tender flesh. “I’ll do it again, you bitch.”

She slaps him. His grip tightens on the steering wheel, but he doesn't do anything further nor does he speak a word to her for another ten minutes until he turns into what appears to be an abandoned inn. But he pulls her out of the car with him into the front office, and a woman who must be older than sliced bread itself sits at the front desk.

“I need a room.” He grits out to the woman, whose face doesn’t even lift from the magazine she’s reading.

Gab gasps, punching his chest. She growls out the side of her mouth. “Two rooms, you pootie pauper.”

  
  


“One room.” He says again, definitively, to the woman who’s now lifted her head and met his eyes through her coke bottle glasses. She turns slowly in her chair toward the wall of keys along the wall behind her. She pulls the key for room seven off the hook and extends her hand out toward his. He opens his palm below hers, and she drops the key into it.

“That’ll be $30. We’ll charge you at the end of your stay.” With that, she turns her head back to her magazine, completely ignoring the way he’s yanking her out of the office and dragging her down to the seventh room. He unlocks the door, shoves her inside, and then locks her in. She slams her fists against the door, but it’s no use. Not a single person must be in this whole place except for the ancient artifact seated at the front desk. She sighs, turning around and inspecting her surroundings.

One bed, which she’ll be taking. She walks toward the bathroom to take a look and notices the yellow coloring staining the wall where the shower is. She doesn’t want to know what this room would look like under a UV light. When she turns, a roach runs across the floor in front of her and she yelps. It’s then that the door swings open and the stupid, dirty, stinky man returns.

He doesn’t say a word. He just walks into the room, locking and dead-bolting the door behind him. She considers making a run for it, but he’s bigger and faster. He’s got stupid long lanky legs. Stupid skinny white boy. She wouldn’t make it. Another cockroach runs across the room, and it’s his turn to shiver.

“So what’s going to happen here? You’ve kidnapped me and stolen me car.” Gab crosses her arms over her chest, looking at him pointedly.

“We are staying here for the night before I get rid of you.” He says, unzipping one of the bags full of cash.

“Get rid of me?” Gab laughs. “That’s your plan? Methinks you didn’t think this through stupid man.”

“Will you stop calling me stupid, you dumb bitch?” He growls, turning to face her with an exasperated look on his face.

She runs toward him and slaps him right across the face, leaving a red mark in the place her hand connected. He grabs her tightly, shaking her. “Stop! Fucking! Slapping! Me!”

“I will stop slapping you when you stop being a gross disgusting man!” She yells, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. It doesn’t work, so she kicks his shin instead. He yelps, going down to hold his shin as he yelps. “Stay down, bitch!” She yells, kicking him again in the nuts for good measure. He keels over, falling on his side as he rolls up like an armadillo. She looks frantically around the room and notices the knife in his bag. She grabs it and leans down, holding it to his neck.

“I’m taking this money and leaving you for dead.” She grits out, enjoying the look of fear in his eyes. She likes the fear. It makes her feel alive. But then the fear is shifting. A smirk takes over his features and his eyes twinkle, pouting up at her.

“I think I could be much more useful than that, sweetheart.” His voice is saccharine sweet, and she hates it.

“What good could a dirty man like you who doesn’t wipe his ass offer me?” She presses the knife further into his neck, connecting with the skin almost to the point of slicing.

He gasps, ignoring the remark about wiping his ass.  _ Why is she so obsessed with the idea of me not wiping my ass?  _ He thinks to himself. He decides to charge forward with his first plan. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. I think you could have a lot of fun if you kept me alive.”

She kneels over his chest, pushing her knee down into it. Hard. “You would offer me nothing of use.” She feels slightly flushed, however, seeing the hint of chest hair through the top of his shirt. She brings her hand up to the neckline of his shirt, pulling it down slightly with one finger, revealing more chest hair. He must have a full chest of hair. It’s the prettiest chestie she’s ever seen. “What would you offer me?”

Seizing upon the chance, he smiles. “Anything you’d want.”

She smiles, pushing the knife in a little bit further so that she draws blood. “I think I could have a lot of fun with you, stupid toy.”

He gasps when he reaches his hand up to his neck, touching the blood starting to drip it. He pulls his hand away to look at the blood and smiles. “Whatever you want.” He reaches toward the hem of his shirt. “I can take this off, you know.”

She pulls the knife away from his neck slightly, holding it out toward him as she slowly backs away. She pauses over his knees and holds the knife directly over his crotch. “One wrong move and your peepee is gone.”

He gulps, nodding slowly in understanding. And then he’s pulling the hem over his head and revealing a beautiful full chest of hair. She nearly salivates at the sight. She loves his chesties, so thick and full. Not like the other dirty men she’s seen in her life. Maybe this man  _ does  _ wipe his ass. If his chesties look so good like they do. He removes his shirt and tosses it to the side. There’s a spot of blood on the neckline from the cut she made in his neck.

She starts to stand, holding the knife to the chest. “Get on the bed, chesties.” And then she holds the knife close to him, watching for any sneaky moves as she stands and lies on the bed. She grabs the rope from the bed and begins to tie his hands and feet to the four posts of the bed. She’s a little surprised that the bed has four posts, but she’s not asking questions.

He pulls at the restraints a few times once she’s finished, but he has very little room for movement. He looks at her, slightly scared. She smiles. She likes the fear.

She slips her pants off and then climbs onto the bed, straddling his knees. She unzips his pants and slowly starts to pull them down his legs. They get stuck around his knees, but she doesn’t mind. He can be uncomfortable. That’s part of the fun for her. And then she holds the knife to his balls and drags it slightly against them. He gasps, looking down in fear as she holds a knife against his most sensitive parts. She looks up to meet his eyes with a smile, and all he says is a quiet, “Please, no.”

She pulls the knife from his balls, but drags it slightly against his inner thigh, nicking it slightly so a drop of blood drops down his legs. She likes the sight of it, so she moves to the other leg to do the same thing. He hisses at the sensation. She laughs loudly. His hiss sounds  _ nothing  _ like a cat’s. Probably because of his dumb Scottish accent.

She starts to crawl up his body, settling over his lap. He gasps when she sits down on top of him, maybe because she’s sitting on his peepee or maybe because she’s now nicked him again beneath his right nipple. She smiles wickedly, rocking his hers as she nicks beneath his left nipple to match. She’s nothing if not thorough.

She can’t stop herself from resting her hand on his chest, tangling her hands in his beautiful chesties. The most beautiful chesties she’s ever seen. She wraps her hand in as much as she can and tugs, eliciting a yelp from him. So, she does it again. And again. And again. And that’s when she finally notices that he’s hard. He likes that she’s hurting him. And she’s happy to do so.

She is impatient, so she pulls her underwear to the side and lines herself up with his peepee, sitting down slowly onto him as she brings the knife to his belly button, cutting a small cut up toward his sternum. When she’s fully seated on his peepee, she puts the knife to the side and grips her right hand over his neck, pushing down into his airpipe lightly. “My favorite seat.” She smiles, soft and sweet despite the fact that she’s cut him all over his body and is now starting to choke him. His air is cut off and he starts trying to gasp some into his lungs. Only when he starts to go red in the face does she ease up. And she smiles down at him like she’s done him a great service, allowing him to stay alive.

She starts to rock back and forth on his peepee, gripping his chesties with her hands for leverage. She starts to move faster, moving one of her hands behind her so she can squeeze his balls, making him yelp and squirm as she crushes them in her hands.

She laughs, letting go with a smile, another great service she’s done not squashing them to a pulp. She brings her hand up to his face, gently caressing his cheek as her rhythm stays consistent. He smiles up at her, appreciative of the sweet gesture. And then she slaps him across the face. He yelps, face moving to the side with the force of her hit. He looks back up at her, eyes wide and confused. So, she slaps him with her other hand on the other cheek. Then, she punches him in the nose and he hears a crack. He screams out in pain, blood starting to gush out of his nose. She laughs, grabbing his hair and pulling his head down so his chin is against his neck. She pulls at his hair tightly, starting to take some of his hairs out of his head. He’s whimpering now, nose broken, hair pulling out of his head. “What’s that, stupid stink?” Gab laughs, starting to bounce on his peepee. He whimpers again, letting the noise settle into a long whine. “Are you a whiny wittle baby stinky boy?”

He whimpers and whines, nodding his head. “Yes, Momma.”

“Naughty stinky dirty dumb boy. My dumb little pet.” She growls, pulling his hair tighter. “My dirty stinky no good peepee your pants wittle boy.” He whines, trying to throw his head back but being unable to because she’s gripping his hair so tightly. And then she lets go of his head and he yelps, head thrown back as he thrusts his hips up into her desperately. She reaches back to grab the knife. “I’m going to take all your money you pootie stink.” She laughs, dragging the knife over his chest. “And you’re going to let me because you like when I take your money and put you in your place because you’re a dirty little man who doesn’t even wipe his ass.”   
  


“I don’t!” He yelps, letting out a moan.

“That’s right, no ass wiping dirty stink man.” She laughs. “And now you’re going to cum inside me like the dirty stinky no good dirty man you are.”

Tears stream down his cheeks as she nods and yells, hips stuttering as he cums inside her. She starts to come around him and plunges the knife down through his sternum and into his heart with a scream. She’s never felt such pleasure in her entire life, killing the dumb man as she comes.

She catches her breath, sighing, before pulling off of him. Her underwear slips back into place and she places a kiss on his left chest, licking the chesties. She grabs the hilt of the knife and dislodges it from his chest. She drags the blood along his chesties, enjoying the sight of it spreading across the hair. She pulls her pants back on and throws the knife into one of the bags full of money.

She grabs the bags and wipes her hands across his chesties, getting rid of the last of the blood. She grabs her keys from where he put them in the side table and walks out the door to her car. After opening the door and tossing the bags of cash inside, she slips into the front seat and drives away. That should have done the trick. She’s made her sacrifice and her man is only just now swinging into motion. She smiles wickedly, eyes looking back through the rearview mirror to see the building light up in flames.

  
  



End file.
